We'll paint it red to fit right in (ACA Dominion of Zenith Prime)

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2l7LCrykJKo​

The enemy had been caught flat-footed and unprepared by the sudden attack — just the way she liked it — and the initial losses had been substantial. Vong were still Vong, however, and it was in their nature to fight back tooth and nail even when they were clearly facing a stronger force. In the end, numbers don't always win wars — they do help, however — and damned if the rogue Vong would go down without taking a few of her legion with them. She could live with that, honestly, as the warriors of Yun'Yuuzhan were quite content to die in battle as opposed to any other cause, and an eternity of darkness in Force knows what hellish dimension didn't seem to deter them one bit.

One of these days, the woman should have a longer talk with some of the Yun'Do, if not for anything else to learn more of the deeper, well-buried nature of the Yuuzhan Vong. Despite their slovenly appearance, crude ways and a penchant for war, Vrag was quite eager to find out what lay burrowed beneath that thick layer of Vonduun crab.

Speaking of which; her own Skerr Kyrric coiled around her as the Hand of the Dark Lord finally joined the fray, following the swath of blood and gore her forces had cut into the enemy line. Her red blade danced in her grasp, an extension of self as she parried and moved, fluid despite her apparent bulk. She'd always placed more weight in agility and speed in combat, though of course strength — of which she had plenty — was nothing to be scoffed at. Ultimately, however, all that power was useless if you couldn't get to your target in time, and so many of the enemy Vong found themselves lashing out at empty space or at their comrade, the Hand of the Dark Lord long gone by the virtue of the Force coursing through her limbs and the nature of the armor she had donned that morning.

Usually the woman would proceed much more slowly, taking her time to ensure that the enemy she'd felled was truly dead, but she had a different purpose here, on the blood-spattered dust in the basin of the canyon. Little light filtered down from above, and the two clashing Vong armies were left to fight in the half-light of a sun well past its zenith.

Zenith, geddit?

Anyway, the Sith Lord was well on her way towards the Commander, flanked by the most valiant of Yun'Do as they doled out death left and right. It wouldn't be long now.

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Darth Carach"]
[2/20]​

 

[Corey's OOC]

It was Marek Starchaser, lets be serious, he was the type to keep his hands clean. But when someone was threatening those he cared about, [member="Sasha Santhe"], for example, the Foreman of the Techno Union went deep into the archives of his learning. That meant dark side, that meant he lost his finesse (what little he had) and was reaching into something Primal, something he knew from his teacher of Ket. Swinging his lightsaber, he was reaching out to the Force, unaware of his inability to use Vong sense, but extending his danger sense. Looking to Sasha, he nodded at her.
Their fate would be shared here.

But that was when he felt it, the dark side. The Sith. Had... Right, Irani, doing his thing. Marek grinned, his ice-blue eyes going dark orange. Not quite a Sith any longer, something more. A mixture of Zeison Sha, Sith, Templar, and the Obsidian Order. He was his own brand of Force user, and it wasn't until the rapture he had felt that he would be pulling his own with the Force. Moving towards the Vong, he knew not to attempt to affect them with the Force, but with droids flanking, he lifted up a mass of boulders and hurled them forward, at the heretics who wanted to destroy this galaxy.

He was not a Starkiller, but he could manage that.

With the Dark Side falling on the world, he could tell that thngs were going to start looking up.

Next, was the reception of enemy movements between him and Camp Tal'Verda, the rally point for all who would wish to turn the world into a Union stronghold. The Hand of the Sith, she could make her way to either the camp or link to the main fighting force, to turn the tide and put this world under the proper banner.

#TeamDarkSide.

[member="Darth Carach"]
[member="Vrag"]
[member="Raziel"]
[member="Silara Kuhn"]
[member="Sasha Santhe"]
[member="Phade"]
[member="Seto Du Couteau"]

Writer Post - 11

 

[Sasha Santhe]

Sasha Santhe had never been happier to see [member="Marek Starchaser"] before in her life. Hell she’d never been happy to see him really, more of a neutral sort of playful… look it wasn’t important.

She wanted to tear things up, throw rocks around with the force, scream, and kill. But she couldn’t. [member="Marek Starchaser"] invited her here as Sasha Santhe… not as a Sith Lord. She had secrets to protect. She let out a sigh as she saw the man walking up to him. “Marek,” she cried out running up to him under fire. “Why did you bring me here,” little fists of rage beat helplessly against Mareks chest as little bugs flew around them. How lame.

“You bastard,” she said shooting the force and making it look like MArek did it. A large rock shot up and smashed in a vongs skull. “Listen you…. you owe a resort vacation for this… and you better get two rooms because boy am I upset with you right now…”

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Vrag]

The beautiful thing about the Vong and their culture was that you could be dead-sure that your target wouldn't run, or cower, or eschew combat in any other way. If anything, Vrag could was absolutely certain that the Commander would respond to her challenge as any proud member of the Warrior caste would; with a vicious battle cry and his — or hers, for that matter — amphistaff at the ready. More so, even, since the challenger wasn't one clad in the infidel technology, but adorned with the fearsone Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, something every Vong knew and cherished in battle.

Oh, it would be a duel alright, and an enthralling one at that! Vrag would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to truly testing her mettle against one of the followers of Yun'Yuuzhan, and a high ranking one nonetheless. The Commander would fall, of that she was sure, but she was itching to find out just how much of a fight he'd put up.

And then the enemy line broke under their relentless assault, bombarded from above by thud and blast bugs alike, and the dead red eyes of the skull fixated onto the warrior who was clearly the leader of this legion. Clad from head to toe in Vonduun and wielding a stiffened amphistaff, the warrior was a sight to behold.

"Kane!" she roared out, her throat feeling oddly rough at the exclamation of the Vong curse, but it was well worth it. Her enemy whipped around as fast as humanly — er, Vongly? — possible, his black eyes narrowing at the source of the lowly insult. He would meet naught but a cold, impassive skull staring back with red eyes that spoke of a will that wouldn't be tamed.

Their battle of wills was a short one, for the warriors of Yun'Yuuzhan had never been known for their patience or restraint. It was the one thing that would bring about the Commander's doom, in the end, for the Hand of the Dark Lord knew control well, and would exert it with measure and expertise to cut down the leader of the enemy legion.

But first, let me take a selfie.

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Raziel"] | [member="Silara Kuhn"] | [member="Phade"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[3/20]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

An unmarked Washburn-class medium transport was a wonderful thing, mainly for its ubiquity. In this whole region of the galaxy, the Washburn was a fairly common sight. Maybe less so on a former fortress world like Zenith Prime, but a planet was a big place. Lots of reasons for a Washburn to show up on scene. As if it was a personal craft evacuating, maybe, or just lost or whatever.

Bottom line, who cared? It was a Washburn. Bland was its middle name.

So when one of its hatches cracked open and a trail of vapor sluiced out, it looked like the ship had taken a thud bug to the coolant lines or something. And when that vapor landed on a platoon of Vong, their skin irritation and mild headache were easily dismissed. For now.

By the time they actually started dying, the Washburn would be long gone.

 

[Raziel]

[post 13/20]

“So exactly how explosive is this?” Raziel asked.

The engineer rolled his eyes, and tutted as if speaking to a dunce. Raziel fixed the soldier with a stern glare, and his eyes stopped rolling and fixated on a point in the ground near his toes. “That’s ten kilos of baradium. It’s surrounding a core of slow burning thermine. That’ll burn through damn near anything. You could crack open the roof of a bunker designed to take orbital bombardment with that,” he exclaimed.

Another shot of magma incinerated a point in the Abrion lines. Raziel felt the waft of heat even from this distance. Before he could ask the engineer responded: “That’s delicate. Catch a blaster and you’ll be molecules in a flash.”

“Reassuring,” Raziel replied. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was going to do something this crazy. Perhaps this was a special kind of challenge he hadn’t faced before. In this distance, he could make our Yuuzhan Vong warriors forming a ring around something. Many had stopped fighting for some reason, but he couldn’t make out @Vrag. The Rakamat certainly hadn’t stopped.

“Keep as much fire power on that beast as possibly. I’d like to be swallowed by a singularity just as much as I’d enjoy being vaporised,” Raziel said, strapping the charges to his back. He was potentially about to become to brightest blue-on-blue death in the history of warfare.

“So, I assume you’re here to help?” he asked [member="Silara Kuhn"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"]​

[5/20]​

​

W̵̼̫̝̌ͣͩ͒͑̓̓͜͠ͅo̧̥̝ͤ͋̾ͥͧy̻͖͉͂ͩ̍̿͌̂̑ư̛͉̮̗͕̙̦̹̎̆ͨͩ͌ͧ̏n̬̹̤̺̥ͤ͊̈͛ͯ̚ô̴̴̙̠͉̩ͬͯ͐ͩͥ̾͐ḳ̝ͪ̓̎ͨ̊̀̐̓͝ş͍̲͔̺̉͗̐̓̚͝ ̻̲͇̔̕ḩ̤͓͇̈́̿͋͝ǎ̙̼̐d̫̤͓̝̫͌̐̏̽̾̽ͨ͠͠zͧ̆ͪ̌̂̌͏͕͈̞͈̲̪̯̜ȗ̶̃̏ͦ͏͖͓̯̭s̤̘̱̬͓̟̭̿̓͂̐̾ͧͨͅk̷̝̘̖͕̀͗ͮ̆͑̈́͊ͭ͟a͈̺̘ͫ͋̓̐ͨ͐̚ ̢͉̘͍ͧ̎̾̿̒ͯ̍̚k̛͖̞͙̠ͤͯ̍̊ͣ͝o͈̲̫̖͈̭̤̐̈̔́̃̑ͨͫ̒͝͞͠s̖͖̣̹͈̞͚ͤ̀͝ͅh̢͈͖͎͖̱̗̜͆̆͡û̶̻̬̭̯͂̓͘j̠͎̫ͬ͆ͤͦͧ͗ͧͪ͒ŏ̱̖͕̤̪̲͎̜̃̓́ͤ͘͜n̨̎͡͏͇̟ţ̸̝̮͉̈́̂̍û̴̢͉̼͖̮̺̥̓ͪ͒͊͌̆̈́ͧ̕.̻͌̀ͤͧ​

​

The incantations of the Dwomutsiqa rolled fluently from the tongue, the air humming with power around the Sith Lord and suddenly reality shifted. Some people wondered, pondered where the smoke demons came from- some figured it was straight from the Netherworld that they were summoned, others theorized that they were metaphysical manifestations of all hatred and evil residing in one place. But there were others, those who weren’t afraid of thinking outside the box that had a different opinion.

​

And those others had vastly different ideas on where the demons came from, in a Galaxy that was literally filled with interdimensional technology it wasn’t too hard of a stretch that perhaps these demons didn’t even come from their reality.

​

The last syllable was spoken, thunder beckoned and manifestations of darkness ripped themselves into this world through the fabric of reality.

​

They set themselves on the remainder of the defenders.

​

Screams started rising up.

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwgjM-teND8&spfreload=1​

Well, you know how these things go; attack, retreat, riposte, attack again. Vrag was good at it, and she reveled in that skill as much as the Commander did. Despite the firm knowledge that one of them won't see another day, they both fought with as much fervor — or perhaps even more — if only to prove to the other that they were indeed deserving of their title.

In a way, it would be pathetic and ignominious to die out here, in some Force-forsaken canyon that nobody cared about. She could lose her life for a purpose that wasn't even truly her own — though that could be debated at length, for Vrag knew all and none — and who would remember the death? Darell, maybe, and a few of the Vong she'd brought with. Ugh.

Yeah, that just wouldn’t do. If she was going to die, it'll be in a majestic duel with someone worth remembering, with Michael Bay explosions in the background and some sort of cataclysmic event going down to boot. Too much? Well, the Sith certainly had enough money to field those special effects expenses, and the Hand had access to some of those funds simply because of her position in the hierarchy.

But you didn't come here to read about the One Sith financial situation, so without further ado; Vrag sidestepped and batted the amphistaff downwards in order to avoid its hungry mouth. Having fought alongside Vong so long, the firrerreo was well-educated on the advantages and downsides of their organic tech, and wasn't afraid to use said knowledge in the least. As the proud owner of an amphistaff herself, Vrag was quite excited to use it on the Commander. It would be one last middle finger to his face before he died, and if there was anything the woman enjoyed more than anything else, it was one-upping her opponents.

The man twisted his torso to try and get her back into his line of attack, but the cheating Hand was using the Force to move even faster than she would normally — blessed be the Vonduun! — and the Vong was simply too slow. His amphistaff flexed in a last-ditch attempt to sink its fangs into the Sith Lord, but the woman had her lightsaber at the ready, catching it just below the head so it wouldn't weave around her defense. Her left foot would find good purchase upon the scattered rocks then, and the firrerreo planted herself firmly even as rotated her torso to deliver a debilitating punch to the small of his back. With the strength of her armor complementing her already considerable power, the Hand of the Dark Lord was sure that she would inflict some serious blunt force trauma to the sacral region. Take that anatomy, Vong!

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Raziel"] | [member="Silara Kuhn"] | [member="Phade"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[4/20]​

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek was sick of these mother fething Yuuzhan Vong on the mother fething planet.

Why did he bring [member="Sasha Santhe"] here? He brought her here because one, Sasha was hot, and seeing her all sweaty and potentially covered in blood would wake up some sort of primal fixation in Starchaser’s mind and maybe, y’know, possibly, send him down the path he once traveled as a Sith to actually begin to use the Force and kick some enemy of team dark side ass. Two, well he needed someone to negotiate this world away from the stubborn keepers. He needed someone better than he was to convince them that it was either time to fall in line, or die.

“If you focus and get moving, I’ll buy you a whole damned island.” His frustration in his voice really wasn’t at Lady Santhe, but at the mother fething Vong. Marek did his best to throw lightning, but of course, the infidel scarheads didn’t feel it. And the made a move to hurl another boulder at them.

Feth.

But the good thing was that the Sith were here. Had Marek had his datapad on him, and wasn’t, y’know, waist deep in thudbugs and Yuuzhan Vong, whom he was backing away from, because feth that. Looking to Sasha, he nodded. “I’ve transmitted to you and Irani…Ovmar whatever he’s calling himself today,” You know him as [member="Darth Carach"] today. “what we need out of the research camp. Lets get moving, but just in case I get hung up.” Due to some post count rule. “I wanna make sure you can take it over.”

[member="Vrag"] too, because, #Selfie

Twelve out of Twenty posts for the Post God

 

[Ellie Mors]

Help? She scoffed at the notion. If one required, necessitated even, help, then by all rights they were incapable of surviving on their own. Simply put, it meant they were beneath those who could - those who ranked higher on the food chain, people like her. Like Sith. For a brief moment she contemplated the possibility of outright denying the aid to such a ragged group, whom regardless of their victories on the planet seemed to be pushed into a tight corner at the moment, but the potential for a proper alliance between the Sith and Abrion group would be much more useful to her and the One Sith than a few dead bodies. Unlike the Sith who boisterously threw out their best whenever they had the chance, or the Dark Jedi that sought after their knowledge, Silara was not one to show off unless faced with a true reason to do so - in which case she immediately deemed a Rakamat to be exactly that. "I am here to kill Yuuzhan Vong that rebel against potential allies. If that is helping, then I suppose we can call it that." She replied, grumbling internally of not having the ability to dispatch the behemoth that prepared to run them down with a lightsaber. Well, theoretically she could - but then theoretically one could cut down a starship with such a weapon, it simply was not practical.

Her hands, hanging loosely at her sides, immediately raised up her hands as though she were a conductor before an orchestra. "Generally I am used to having these dealing with my enemies rather than being my enemies, but I'll allow the exception to slide int he name of a challenge - it has been quite a while since I've last stretched these legs of mine." Silara said while took a step forward. Perhaps those whom accompanied the dark jedi were less prepared to deal with creatures such as these - admittedly she had not planned to deal with one either - but the way they seemed to just take their deaths as if they were extremely expendable, as though they had no clue as to how they would defeat or kill the thing, was a bit mind-boggling. Slowly her hands spread apart in the air, as if she were parting an invisible curtain - only with far more stress on the muscles of her forearm and fingers. Rather far from both her and [member="Raziel"], just about a meter or so from where the front right foot of the Rakamat was, the realization of what it was the Sith Lord was doing should have, perhaps, dawned on those observing. Rather than move in recklessly, Silara ripped open a small gap in the ground where the beast's foot moved to step - weakening the soil around it as well - so that it sunk directly into the ground and essentially rooted itself in place.

[2/20]

 

[Irys Arist'lar]

[member="Silara Kuhn"]

[Wrong account - assume Raziel]

As the Rakamat found itself rooted to the spot it came under heavy fire from the abrion forces, keeping its singularities occupied. Hordes of Chazrach broke free from its hide and charged. The chittering creatures rolling forwards in a mass.

He glanced sidelong at the Sith Lady concentrating on the Force. Felt the Force swirling about her as it heeded the commands of the powerful Sith Lady.

[SIZE=10.5pt] "I am here to kill Yuuzhan Vong that rebel against potential allies. If that is helping, then I suppose we can call it that." She replied, [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Raziel raised an eyebrow as he activated his pair of dual-phase lightsabers, keeping one in a short purple phase, whilst the other extended to a long turquoise blade. “Why what else would you define help as?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Regardless, call it what the feth you like, I’d say that was helpful,” he said, watching the beast struggle to free itself. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Without wasting further words, the spymaster leapt up from the abrion trenches. He ploughed through a crowd of chazrach, darting between them and swinging with a remarkable pace. A pile of bodies was left in his wake, neat cauterised incisions in key locations showed that his charge was far from a wild frenzy, but a sequence of precise and efficient strikes. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][post 14/20][/SIZE]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Jaster was on the planet for business, to meet the commanders and talk of building a factory. Things were short, he was near the goverment building and waiting for contact with agents when buildings crashed down on him. His guards were probably either killed or still at the star port under arrest. He was a simple buisnessman, Mandalorian, but still unsure what was happening. He was under a small pile of rubble, it it wasn't for his armor, he would have been crushed and killed, now he was witnessing a battle. Then he made a decision to find a soldier and surrender himself. Though even with their being a battle around him, it was pretty barren of soldiers on the ground around him, he would have to go searching.

Taking a step he felt that he had a broken rib and groaned at the sudden pain he felt. He looked down to see blood dripping from his armor, great that's all he needed. The next thing he noticed was his data pad, in it was the clients he was to meet and the transfers for the money's in preparation to bribe officials. He either needed it to get him off the planet, thus he kept it.

He needed medical attention, his transport craft with guards also had medical equipment as props during the meeting, now he was happy they were just their for him. He stood with all the pain he felt and walked very slowly to the space port, he would have to pass the research department of he was to make it quick enough. He pulled out one of his duel blaster pistols, he knew how average soldiers became trigger happy, he use to be one.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"] ​

[6/20]​

​

He could feel the Darkside surging all around him as the Smoke Demons were making short work of the resistance popping up here and there, that was the problem with facing Sith Magica and to be more specific Smoke Demons. It was almost impossible to really fight them, they didn’t have a real body- and so you couldn’t hurt them, their mind was so foreign that you couldn’t attack it. The only real way to make it disappear was to either find the link that anchored it to this plane… or use Force Light, there wasn’t anyone here with the expertise to execute the former and the later?

Well Zenith Prime had never been much of a Lighside world, so he doubted there would be Jedi amongst these poor fools. The demons were wreaking havoc amongst the soldiers, popping in and out of existence, claws burying themselves deep into the throat and other assorted organical weak points of the humans. They were all dead, they simply didn’t know it yet.

Truthfully, Carach would have given them mercy, but there was such a thing as lessons needed to be learned and this was definitely one of those times. They simply had to teach them what it meant to resist the Sith (or their allies), it would mean utter decimation to them.

This was the best way to teach them that, better destroy one entire company of warriors and have the others kneel down before them, instead of accepting their pleas right now and be busy putting down rebellions for the entirety of the next month, no? Such was Carach’s ponderings at the very least and they would stay that way until proven otherwise.

 

[Raziel]

The warning through the Force was brief, but Raziel was already being pushed to his limits. A chazrach managed to latch onto his back, raising a dagger-like weapon high. The creatures were not immune to the Force, however. Raziel stumbled forwards as he lashed out with the Force, sending the creature flying.

He ignored the flash of pain, the reptoid had managed to strike home before being dislodged, finding a chink in his armour and cutting through his flesh into the shoulder blade. No time to worry about that now. He was closing on the immobilised rakamat.

Ducking under a thud bug, he closed on another reptoid, two quick stabs from his sabers efficiently putting the creature down. Raziel stumbled again in the churned up turf, losing his footing. Several more of the chittering creatures launched themselves at him.

The lithe spymaster managed to turn his stumbled into a roll, but one of them managed to barrel into him, bearing him to the ground. He tasted mud, as his sabers slipped from his grip.

[14/20]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"] ​

[7/20]​

​

Finally the last man dropped in front of him, and he had enough time to check up on the other threats of the situation. The fortress and research facility itself was still very much closed down and hunkered, and so the Sith Lord ordered his droids to start an assault on the walls. He himself would lead the charge, by magicks of course. Because what way was better to become proficient, then to simply train as much as possible? His footsteps took him to a hill facing the fortress and he took a good wide look at the defenses of the thing. It was more a research facility than anything else, but it still had impressive defenses.

Which was more annoying than anything else, but what’s a man gonna do when he’s fighting for the honor of his… okay, that might go a little too far. His orders to start an assault where commencing neatly, Hegemonic Automaton Droids (insured, of course) were lining up and commencing siege procedures, which wasn’t necessary because of what the Sith Lord was going to do next. Again he started making abstract finger gestures, hooking them in various manners until finally the flow of ancient and arcane power started flooding through and around him.

He whispered words of power, they allowed him to focus the abstract energies far more better than simply silence. Perhaps in the future he would be able to simply raise his hand and push, evaporating everything in sight, but Sol had been fighting with Sith Magicka for centuries, while Carach only had years himself.

Even so, the flood of energy was starting to recreate a marginally bigger wall, singular form this time and it would soon be ready.

 

[Vrag]

The Commander cringed but weaved out of her grasp as a slippery amphistaff might have, dancing out of range to recover from the blow she'd just delivered. His mask was a rictus of anger and hate, but for once he couldn't scream about infidel machines, for Vrag was wearing none — well, none visible to the eye — and it probably made the Vong even angrier. That, in turn, brought a smile on the woman's face, a delighted grin laced with schadenfreude through-and-through. The Yuuzhan Vong were renowned for their ire during battle, true, but it could only get you so far before someone with greater restraint and patience exploited a hole in your defense.

The Hand of the Dark Lord was that someone today, and she was biding her time to strike again, deflecting and parrying his blows while the Yun'Do did their best to plow on through the enemy Vong, effectively forming a makeshift ring around the two of them. Bodies seeping black blood piled up around them, tainting the ground with their tar even as the two danced. It was the only dance Vrag would ever partake of willingly; not even that, but with gusto and zeal, her feet moving in time with a rhythm only she could hear.

She was dictating the tempo now, albeit subtly, trying to coax the Commander into making another mistake that would cost him another debilitating blow. Another advantage the firrerreo had over the Vong was the sheer exhaustion permeating the ranks of the enemy; they had been fighting for some time before her arrival, but she was as fresh as a daisy. A towering, armor-clad and death-wielding daisy, perhaps, but a daisy nonetheless.

"All I see is weakness!" she roared out in the harsh tongue of the Vong, her throat catching at the words as the tore out of her chest. "Face me, you worm!"

​

​

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Raziel"] | [member="Silara Kuhn"] | [member="Phade"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[5/20]​

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"] ​

[8/20]​

***​

His predecessor, his father had managed to unlock the secrets of an ancient Sith Library-Temple on Krayiss Two. One of the original ancient Sith Worlds, hidden away in the Stygian Caldera Nebula. Carach still wasn’t entirely too sure how the old man had been able to do it, but some way he had managed to convince the sith spirits guarding the library that he was somehow worthy. In the end it had meant the full acquisition of a library holding the collective sorcery knowledge of a whole Sith Empire- the original one, not one of those that had sprung up after that.

Carach even theorized that- no, that was too early to say. First he needed to get his hands on the Adas Holocron and figure out what it contained, before making any rash judgement on its contents without actually having seen them first hand. But all this was to say that the Sith Lord had all the knowledge available to him to become knowledgeable on certain important affairs.

Knowledge on Spirit Channeling, the binding of them and exorcism. Raising the dead, bringing them down again, experimenting with their capabilities. Alchemy, how to create weapons of power, tools of destruction, how to manipulate beasts into monsters and vice versa. Ah… there was so much to learn and in contrary to others, he had all the time in the world to learn it.

In front of him the Field of Death had materialized, a soft hum chimed in its close proximity and one could almost faintly make out the resonance of the Force, as its anti-energy hit the energy of life and forced it to unmake itself. Because that was all that the Field of Death did, it forced whatever came into contact with it to unmake itself down to its very components.

Not a pleasant affaire.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel felt the blade bite deep into an armourplast plate. The feel of the sharp blade ferociously hitting home so close to his flesh spurred him on. He rolled, lashing out with knees and elbows. Once upon a time he’d had to fight dirty in the back streets of Nar Shaddaa, the Jedi Master wasn’t going to let a confusing brawl get the better of him.

A chazrach fell away, clutched at its broken face. Another followed in to try and down the hindered Jedi, but Raziel manged to get a free hand to his bracer of splinter knives. A little black dart shot through the air and caught the creature in the neck. Tiny microscopic barbs along its blade held the weapon fast, as its poisonous toxins did their work.

Raziel managed to roll into an advantageous position, pinning the chazrach down with his legs. He clawed at his hands and neck, but the spymaster now had the advantage. He raised both fists together, and brought them down with all his strength: once, twice, three times. The creature’s eyes went blank and it stopped struggling.

[15/20]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"] ​

[9/20]​

***​

But it didn’t matter what was pleasant and what wasn’t, because this was war and in war casualties (and sometimes the laws of relativity) had to be struck down for that endless mantra that some people liked to call the Greater Good. But Carach knew better than that, he knew that there was no greater good, no greener pastures or the necessary evil. What there was was Evil and Good, and that grey middleground at the center of the spectrum.

A centrum that nobody really knew, but everyone claimed to own. It was just the way of things, the Sith Lord pondered, for people to simply say that they were the middleground. That what they did was right and that the slaughter they executed was all done for the good of mankind. Because when they ran out of excuses and could no longer clarify their position as pure good?

That was where the trouble began, that was when the usual conventions no longer held ground and when it all started to become quite muddy indeed. That was the real truth of the matter, people liked to consider themselves gray, until the situation had become truly gray. When things were starting to become intangible and unknown, that’s when everyone would start to panic.

Carach snorted.

Wasn’t it so much better to simply… own up to your greater character? To realize that what you are doing is wrong and do it anyway? Wasn’t that the true characteristic of being honest with yourself and the world? Perhaps he was philosophizing too much on an early morning, but there was something about this mission that brought something up in him.

Something that wished to explain his pragmatism to the world, but perhaps it was too early for that too. So instead the Sith Lord shrugged, raised his palm and then literally pushed all life in front of him away.

The Gate flitted through the grassland in the direction of the wall.

 

[Vrag]

No Vong under the suns — except perhaps [member="Khallesh"] — could resist reacting to that sort of insult. It was goading, and obvious goading even, but this was Yuuzhan Vong she was fighting, not some Jedi whose head was so far up their ass they could probably see what they'd eaten for breakfast. No, the Commander reacted, just as she'd planned, and even through her armor the woman could feel his anger rise like a tidal wave, spilling over the confines of his mind and against her firm defense.

The Vong followed a second later, amphistaff coiled to strike in his grip, and the Hand of the Dark Lord readied herself, letting the Force flow freely through her limbs as that one moment stretched into dilated infinity of ragged breath and the thump thump of systolae and diastolae. Her chitinous boots left dust in their wake as the woman moved to the side, her honed footwork carrying her out of his line of attack and around him, giving her a clear shot at his unprotected back.

She had time — as ridiculous as that sounded — and her lightsaber found its way into a gap between the Vonduun, grazing their rattling legs and pincers as it penetrated his flesh. The smell of charred meat and scorched blood wafted into the air, but Vrag had no time to gloat. Instead she rammed her shoulder into his back, sending him flying into the corpses of his own men as the Hand of the Dark Lord moved into the wide measure.

"Is that all you've got?" another jeer, another taunt, another jibe at his precious honor. Vong pride was such an obvious weakness that Vrag wondered how their enemies didn't use it more often. Perhaps they were scared? Eh, who knew. She had a Commander to deal with, and that was sure as hell enough business at any one time.

​

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[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Raziel"] | [member="Silara Kuhn"] | [member="Phade"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[6/20]​